His and Hers
by FlowerPot21
Summary: Sometimes you need your space...but not completely separate of another. EC, post 720
1. Chapter One: His

His and Hers

Chapter One: His

Her side is getting a little cluttered lately; a small stack of books and magazines accumulating on it, a cup of very cold coffee from the morning, a glass half full of water, her little notebook in which she'd jotted down a rather lengthy grocery list, a few pens and her alarm clock.

You look at it for a moment, wondering if she's going to get around to straightening it back up because she's normally so organized, and it helps the zen in the room because you aren't exactly the neatest person around, but you try to be, for her, to keep that pleased look on her face that you like to see. "Your" side is looking much the same, with water, books, your prescriptions, and some mail. You've brought the essentials to her place from yours because your home hasn't been the same since the threats on your life for wanting the truth. Your place is a bit too empty, too full of memories that you'd rather forget, and stock piled with too many nights that you will lie awake in bed haunted by the chill of hazy nightmares and the reverberations of unnecessary loneliness.

You look down at her, and she is sleeping peacefully, her hair tussled, and her body tucked deep under the duvet. She has the day off, and so do you, and you know that people will talk, but you don't care, and neither does she. You rather enjoy the guessing game Ryan, Maxine, and Natalia play. You grin when you see them compare their "evidence" of your relationship with Calleigh and then hurriedly and awkwardly shut up when either you, or Calleigh, or both of you enter a room.

Calleigh doesn't enjoy it as much, you know this because every time it is brought up, her lips form something between a frown and a pout. She is a professional, and she takes care to keep her personal life separate from work. You understand that, respect it now more than ever. There are moments though, when she steps out of professional mode and offers you a sweet, coy smile, a slight pucker of her lips, or lets you catch a glint in her eyes when she gives you that 'come hither' look, like she'd given you a few weeks ago.

And goddammit, did you want to grab her hand and lead her to the showers and take her right then and there. Even when you needed to talk about her afternoon at the racetrack, you'd wanted her.

You love her.

You told her that you're in love with her when she'd been in the hospital. You and she talked for a few hours about where you are headed, and she told you that she'd fallen in love with you and you will always remember that day.

Calleigh stirs, and you look at her as she turns onto her back, bringing her hands above her head and sliding her hands under her pillow. She sighs and continues to sleep, the sunlight caressing over her arms and hair.

You get out of bed as quietly as possible, so as not to wake her and you pull on the sweat pants you'd shed last night before you go over to the dresser and find an old t-shirt to pull on.

It's happening slowly, you realize.

Calleigh's letting it happen, the gradual occupation of all the empty spaces by you; you knew that she'd been ready when she invited you into her bed, when she let you make love to her and when she had pinned you to the bed in the morning to keep you from getting up and going back to your place.

It began with you packing a bag of things that you needed to stay for a couple of nights at a time, then you left and came back with a few more shirts, a few extra pairs of pants and shoes. Then you soon left your toothbrush in her bathroom, you began using her washer and dryer down the hall, you began to use the other side of her closet and she'd let you. He thought that she might begin to object to the whole idea, but you see her contentment in her eyes when she opens up her closet and sees her clothes hanging near yours.

You are comfortable here, in her space, and in yours next to her.

You go over to her bedside table and you pick up the books and replace them on her bookshelf, then you pick up her magazines-_US Weekly, Time, Cosmopolitan, Red Book_-and place them into the basket on the shelf under her bedside table. You replace her alarm clock where her magazines had been, then he picks up her grocery list. Who exactly is she feeding? you wonder looking at the long list. You fold the paper and then you pick up the stray pens and put them into the drawer, then you pick up her glass and her favorite mug and head to her kitchen.

Her favorite mug is shaped like a puppy, and while it seems rather juvenile to you, it has grown on you because it is her favorite. You've come to like the larger cobalt blue mug that she gives you.

You put the mug and the cup into the sink and then you put the grocery list on her fridge. You press the button to start the coffeemaker, then you wash out her mug and set it onto the island then you open up the cabinet next to her fridge-because you know her kitchen like the back of your hand-and find your mug and set it next to hers.

You go back to her bedroom, and it is right again.

Her side is neat, organized, and ready for her.

You get back into bed and she stirs, scooting closer to you from her side over to yours and she drapes her arm over your waist and smiles softly as she opens her eyes slowly and looks up at you.

"Hi," you say to her as you smooth over her tussled, tangled hair.

She smiles fully, sleepily. "Hi."

**TBC**


	2. Chapter Two: Hers

His and Hers

Chapter Two: Hers

You lean up and kiss him softly.

You feel his hands caressing over your back and you lay your head onto his strong chest, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. Your hand caresses over his chest, and you enjoy this moment. You sigh as you open your eyes and see his bedside table. His side is a mess, but you can't complain because yours is in the same state, has been for about a week or two. As for his side, well, you expect that. You've noticed that Eric isn't exactly the neat freak that you are, but you've relaxed a little-okay-a lot. He balances you out. So you don't get around to making your bed; you don't care. So you're doing laundry every two weeks with Eric instead of every week; that is okay with you too.

You are _happy_.

When you lay against him like this, it makes you wonder why it took so damn long to get here. You figure that maybe both you and Eric had some growing up to do; you had your rocky relationships, he had his flings…

Then…

Your world changed almost two years ago when you heard the words, "_Officer down_," over your radio.

Your world changed that day, because you then couldn't imagine your world without Eric.

Your heart still clenches, still hurts, even thinking about it.

Then you nearly lost your life, causing him to feel the same ache, and confusion and dizziness that you'd felt.

When he told you that he couldn't imagine living his life without you, you weren't exactly sure if you'd been having one of your dreams, or if he was really there with you, divulging a secret that he'd been keeping for far too long.

He'd been there for you.

You cried when he told you that he's in love with you.

You love him.

You love him _here_. Right here, in your bed, holding you. He's been here almost everyday now for about a month. You know that he doesn't like staying at his place, and you don't blame him after all. How can Eric possibly stay in a place that's unsafe for him now? You know how important stability is to him now, and if staying here with you makes him feel a little safer, and adds more stability, then you are happy to oblige.

"Penny for your thoughts?" He asks you and you feel his fingers playing with a strand of your hair.

You smile and shake your head gently.

"Just relaxing," you say drowsily. "I almost forgot what that was like, the way work has been lately."

Eric nods his agreement then he kisses your forehead.

"Go back to sleep for a little bit," he says to you.

You lay back down onto the pillows and he gets out of bed.

You turn over and you see that your nightstand is clear and neat again. You smile.

There is something intimate about knowing that Eric knows where you want everything to be because nothing is out of place, and everything is just as you usually leave it. You notice that he takes so much care to respect your spaces as he slowly occupies them. When you invited him home with you for dinner, and then you let him make love to you, you _wanted_ him to stay. You didn't want him to ever leave. No morning-after drama for you anymore, even though you were scared to death.

When he began bringing some of his things over, you began to have second thoughts. You're used to living by yourself, you're used to occupying one half of anything that can work with two. You can share a bed for a little bit, but the staying…you're kind of an all-over-the-bed sleeper. Your closet. Your heels are all lined up, your clothes are organized and pushed to one side. Your bathroom a sanctuary…

You were scared as hell.

No man has ever proceeded to this point.

But as the weeks have gone by, his things are blending in seamlessly with yours. You feel normal, and a sense of permanency. His clothes are meshed in with yours in the dresser, there is now "his" side of the sink in your bathroom, and he sleeps on the left side of your bed. You're okay with this. You're allowing him to be with you, next to you, near you, around you, and you _want_ it that way.

You grin before you doze off again.

Twenty minutes later, you feel his warm hand caressing of your cheek and you wake up slowly.

"Hey," he tells you and you put your hand over his. "I made you a cup of coffee."

"Thanks."

You take his hand and he gently pulls you up and kisses your lips softly.

"And thank you for tidying up for me," you tell him sweetly.

"You're welcome," he says and you kiss him again.

You get out of bed and you stretch before you follow Eric into the kitchen.

You sit at the island and you see your favorite puppy mug sitting next to his cobalt blue one, both filled with coffee. You grin as you pick up your mug and take a sip. He joins you with two sticky buns on a saucer. You pick up one and bite into it before taking another sip of your coffee, which he has made just right.

You know this can work, you want it to work, even with knowing that there is a part of you that will try and find a way to make it difficult. You know that sometimes you can be territorial, you can be grouchy; it slightly annoys you to know that you are giving up so much of your control so easily to please a man that you love deeply and want in every aspect of your life now.

You are ready for Eric to be a part of daily life. You know that things that you usually do, he will want to do for you, like mow your lawn or fix the squeaky pipes in the guest bathroom, because he is a gentleman, you know that he will defend you even if you don't want him to, you know that he will flat out tell you when you're wrong, and you know that he'll always wake up slightly later than you.

You set your mug next to his and you rest your cheek into your palm, looking at him.

Sometimes you need your space…but not completely separate of another.

If you want space, you know that he will give it to you, and vice versa, but there is comfort for you because you know that if space should be needed by either party, you and him are never too far apart.

Eric smiles at you, catching you staring at him, deep in thought.

"Hi," he says to you, chuckling a bit and you smile.

"Hi."

**END**


End file.
